Poem by Thomas Hardy

The Last Time

The kiss had been given and taken,
And gathered to many past:
It never could reawaken;
But I heard none say: ‘It’s the last!’

The clock showed the hour and the minute,
But I did not turn and look:
I read no finis in it,
As at closing of a book.

But I read it all too rightly
When, at a time anon,
A figure lay stretched out whitely,
And I stood looking thereon.

1. An Expostulation
2. The Collector Cleans His Picture
3. The Aërolite
4. The Harvest-Supper
5. Why She Moved House

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